Title: Optional

Text: My loved one, the rains have come, and you promised that when they did, you'd come too. And now the days are gone: I've counted them one by one on the folds of my fingers till the lines at the joints have blurred and my love has left me pale, my youth grown yellow with age. Singing of Rama, your servant Mira has offered you an offering: her body and her mind. Each paragraph will be a test.

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